Eight Bullets
by TonyRomoForMVP
Summary: A bully. That's what our protagonist is before an injury sustained in a shooting rips him from his affluent suburban life and thrusts him into the middle of a war between Nohr and Hoshido. Suddenly he, finding new and increasingly frightening enemies at every turn, must rely on his brains to survive in a world where brains take a backseat to brute strength. OC submission closed.
1. Submission Form

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fanfic ever, and since I'm so inexperienced I thought it would be fun to make my first project a collab with you guys. And as such, I will be accepting OCs that you guys would like to be part of the main crew. Please keep in mind that the story will be taking place in the Fates universe (the Fates main characters, like Corrin and the royals, will be integral to the story as we are following the Revelations route, with the twist of adding a ton of new characters in), and please give me as much information as possible so I can really capture your character. For the sake of preventing excessive spam, please do not submit more than 5 characters. Below are some of the pieces of information I think I'll need to write your character in properly, but please do not limit yourself to the list (no royalty please). If you are having trouble, please scroll below the template to see the character that I made as an example (it doesn't have to be quite that detailed; I kind of went overboard and will be showing you that backstory in the story itself). You can either type your characters into the reviews or send them to me at my gmail (the address itself won't display correctly for some reason, so it's "timberpeas12" followed by the regular gmail ending).** **I'd also appreciate a follow if you'd like to see your character in action (shameless self-plug lol). I look forward to your submissions!**

Name-

Goes by-

Known aliases-

Age (year doesn't really matter)-

Birthday-

Species (Human, kitsune, etc.)-

Gender-

Appearance-

Sexuality-

Personality-

Likes-

Dislikes-

Moral status (Good, evil, ambiguous, etc.)-

Allegiance (Nohr, Hoshido, etc.)-

Social and/or economic status-

Occupation-

Class and promotion-

Weapons of choice-

Birthplace (must be from a location in Fates, although the main character is from Earth)-

Hometown (if different from birthplace)-

Backstory-

…

The protagonist (story is told from his POV):

Name- Unknown

Goes by- Russell

Known aliases- The White Collar Criminal

Age- 18

Birthday- May 5th, 1999 (year only matters because he is from Earth)

Species- Human

Gender- Male

Appearance- Dark-skinned male of short stature (about five eight or so), with short black hair, brown eyes, and a thin mustache over his lip. Generally unathletic, and even a little chubby, hence the choice of a magic-based class, as you will see below. He also suffers from chronic migraines and lactose intolerance.

Sexuality- Heterosexual

Personality- While extremely bright, he is also hot headed, and frequently gets upset and even angry over seemingly insignificant things. He is very insecure about the way others feel about him and will pretend to be someone else to make others like him. High school has made him feel inadequate, and so he latches onto the one thing he feels he has left: his intelligence. He takes out his frustrations on those he feels are inferior to him (i.e., the "dumb kids"). He is incredibly superficial and materialistic, placing little value on "real" emotional connections.

Likes- Getting good grades, watching/playing football, playing video games (including Fire Emblem, which he likes for the strategy aspect)

Dislikes- Royalty, people who he feels are smarter than him, spiders, public speaking

Moral status- Morally ambiguous / outright evil, depending on who you ask

Allegiance- Corrin's army (though he doesn't entirely agree with everything they're doing)

Social and/or economic status- Came from an affluent family, but was sent to the world of Fates with little more than the clothes on his back

Occupation- Was a student at an American high school → became a tactician for Corrin's army

Class and promotion- Fighter - Berserker

Weapons of choice- Pistol, Hand Axe, Hammer

Birthplace- Columbus, OH

Hometown- Princeton, NJ

Backstory- Born to Indian immigrant parents in Columbus, Ohio, our protagonist is relocated as a child to Princeton, New Jersey, when both his parents become pediatricians at a local clinic. Growing up affluent, he has a relatively happy childhood and does well in school, but as he grows older his parents' absurd expectations, coupled with the everyday pressures of high school, crush him. After a tragic accident pushes him over the edge, our protagonist turns to bullying as an outlet for his frustrations in his senior year of high school, picking on a fellow student named Frank who he ridicules for being stupid. However, the protagonist's big money Wall Street aspirations are ripped away from him when a distraught Frank comes to school armed with a pistol and twelve bullets. After Frank targets the "smart kids," and shoots and kills two of them, our protagonist confronts his former victim. Frank misses his first shot, and our protagonist lunges. In the ensuing scuffle, the protagonist manages to wrestle the loaded gun away, but is shot in the ribs in the process. He passes out from his injuries, and when he wakes up he is no longer in New Jersey. Instead he is in the world of Fates, with nothing but the clothes he is wearing and eight bullets in a pistol that he doesn't know how to use. With nowhere else to go, the protagonist allies himself with an ambitious (and pretty) young princess named Corrin and embarks on a quest to save the world, all the while harboring a personal vendetta against Frank, the "assholes who dumped him into this shithole world," and anyone else who he feels has wronged him, including some of his allies from Corrin's army.


	2. Origins

**A/N: Hey guys. Let me preface this by saying that everyone who has submitted a character or characters will have their submissions featured in my story, so don't worry about that. However, I received more responses that I had originally anticipated, so I will be closing the submission window on Friday night rather than waiting the originally planned week. Anyway, sorry to disappoint you guys, but this first chapter is merely background regarding my character, and does not feature any of the reader OCs yet. I think I'll get to introducing some of them in chapter 2, however, so be on the lookout for that, and I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!**

…

It's the first week of May, and I've been up till two every night studying for the goddamn AP exams. When the first shots are fired, I'm so groggy I don't even understand what's happening. People around me are screaming and running out of the school cafeteria, but I'm barely moving.

"Dude, get the fuck up!" Marcus is shouting, frantically shaking my shoulders. "We have to go!"

I put down my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, crumbs still around my mouth, and clumsily get up out of my seat. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but we have to get out of here right now," Marcus says, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

I'm still in a daze, but I do as he says. As soon as we begin running, though, there's a loud bang and Marcus's arm goes slack. There's a thud as his limp body hits the ground. There's a hole in the back of his neck. There's a lot of blood coming out of it.

Panicked, I look around, whirling my head rapidly from side to side. I was practically falling asleep while eating, and my thoughts are still disjointed. All I can think in that moment is: Marcus is my only black friend. Without him how am I going to prove that I'm not a racist?

Behind me, I hear footsteps and a distinctive click. I've seen enough action movies to know that that's the sound of a gun being cocked. All at once my panic dissipates and my thoughts return to normal. I slowly and calmly turn around to face the murderer.

In front of me is Frank, a hulking six foot tall linebacker, holding a loaded pistol in his bear-sized hands. On the floor behind him is a dead Lenny Hong, an Asian kid I was never really that good friends with. I only knew who he was because he was on track to win valedictorian.

"Oh," Frank booms, stepping closer to me. He sticks the gun into my abdomen. "It's you, you little rat."

Ah, Frank. Frank Frank Frank Frank Frank. Normally I'd be afraid of a kid like Frank, but Frank's a fucking retard. He's the kind of idiot who gets lost in the bathroom.

"Hey Frank," I mutter, acutely aware that we're the only two living souls in the cafeteria right now. I can't yet hear the wails of police sirens outside, but hopefully they're on their way.

"I hate you the most," Frank growls, using his characteristic simple wording. He isn't exactly a master of the English language.

Oh, the fun I've had with Frank. I try my best to grin at him, despite the gun jabbing into windpipe. "I can show you a better way to use the gun," I say, stalling for time. Frank's stupid, but he clearly knows how to use the gun. If I can't think of a way out of this quick, I'll be going home in a body bag. I supposed I did bring this on myself a bit, but more on that later. I need to focus all my attention on the problem at hand.

"Shut up," he spits, pushing the gun further in so that I can barely breathe.

Frank thrusts the gun in so hard that I can literally feel my ribs splintering under his strength. I'm suffocating. The edges of my field of vision are tinted black. Everything is swaying. I'm going to pass out.

In a last ditch effort, I kick out with my left leg and get lucky. I hit Frank's shin, and, surprised, he trips and falls. He throws his hands out to stop his fall, and drops the gun in the process.

I don't know how to use the gun, but he's already loaded it for me, so I lunge and grab it before he can get it back.

And suddenly I'm sitting on the ground, gun in hand, looking up at a very upset linebacker. The pain is unimaginable. My entire chest is on fire. Frank definitely broke my ribs, and maybe more. I have maybe thirty seconds before I lose consciousness.

Frank, thoroughly confused by what just transpired, simply blinks for a moment. He doesn't seem to understand how I got my hands on the gun. He bellows, emitting this wild, guttural call, and swings his right fist at me. I close my eyes, lift the gun, and pull the trigger.

His fist connects. I can feel my lower jaw breaking as his knuckles crack against the bone, and I see stars. My head slams down into the concrete floor, and I can't feel anything anymore.

I weakly open my eyes one last time, and see Frank standing there, swaying a bit, with a puzzled look on his face. There's a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. I feel a sick twinge of satisfaction before losing consciousness.

…

"Hey, are you okay?" says a familiar voice from above me.

I drowsily open my eyes, and see Jen's face staring back at me, stark against the blue sky background. I vaguely wonder when she dyed her hair silver. I feel like Jen would have told me about that.

I try to turn my head and look around, but everything aches and I give up. "What's happening to me Jen? Why does it hurt so bad?"

She looks confused. "Who's Jen?" she asks, gazing at me quizzically.

A slightly older looking redhead pops into view. "Scooch over Corrin," she says in this half-rasp. "We need to get him to the infirmary."

I feel myself being lifted up roughly. I immediately feel a wave of dizziness and nausea and have to close my eyes.

I hear the redhead speak again. "Damn. This is like the third or fourth one we've had."

Jen's voice chimes back in. "What the hell? The fourth?"

I let out a low moan as whoever's carrying me bangs my head into the wall as they pass through a doorway. My head's swimming, and my consciousness leaves me once again.

…

 _"Yo ginder!" someone shouts from across the field._

 _I look up from "King Lear" (a real shitty play by the way; thanks Shakespeare) to see Jen running towards me. She plops her bags down and sits next to me on the bench._

 _"Am I gonna see you at Cole's party?" she asks, staring at me intently._

 _I shake my head. "Nah. I don't think so. My parents are probably gonna make me 'study' or some shit like that." I look back down at the copy of "King Lear" that I'm supposed to read Act 1 Scene 3 to 5 of for English, but I can't focus with Jen around. I'm about to turn the page, but she reaches over and slams the book shut with my hand still in it._

 _"Come on ginder," she says, using the customary racial distinction and giving me her signature "you're an idiot" look. It's especially effective because of her big brown eyes. "Seriously. We're second semester seniors. Fuck studying. Live a little."_

 _I honestly don't understand why Jen pays any attention to me. There's no reason for us to hang out. I mean let's face it. She's hot. I, on the other hand, while admittedly am not the ugliest kid at school, am still pretty close to the bottom. I'd use the phrase "sub par," to describe my appearance. I'm five foot seven and three quarter inches tall. I wear glasses, and am four pounds overweight. I like most sports, but I'm not good at playing any of them. My brain is all I've got. Jen is a cheerleader, and her boyfriend is the starting shooting guard for the school's basketball team. It's a good team too. State semis last year. She, frankly, isn't even that smart either, so we really have nothing in common, without a single shared class between us during the entirety of our time at this high school. But even so, I've known her since seventh grade English, before they started making the distinction between "regular," "honors," and "AP," and we bonded over our mutual distaste for poetry. Our friendship worked back then, and it just kind of stuck._

 _"Sorry cracker," I respond, reciprocating her usage of the racial distinction that's become customary in our conversations. You probably feel like I'm rambling, but the racial distinction is a very important running joke for us. "I don't think so. It's a jock party. Too much testosterone for my taste."_

 _She raises her eyebrows. "Testosterone? You're a guy!"_

 _I grin at her. "I'm fat, Jen. I have man boobs. I've got more estrogen than you think."_

 _She pauses. "Wait. Is that why that joke about you being a 'lesbian in a guy's body' went around last year?"_

 _I think for a second, and shudder at the alternatives. "I sincerely hope that's why."_

 _Jen shakes her head. "Alright whatever. We're going off on a . . . uh . . . a . . ."_

 _"Tangent," I say, finishing her sentence._

 _She gives me the look again. "Why are you talking about geometry?"_

 _"Well trig actually, but it's really not important."_

 _"Well anyway, I'm not gonna take no for an answer, so I'll tell you what."_

 _"What?"_

 _"What?"_

 _"What is it that you're gonna tell me?"_

 _"Oh," she chuckles. "Right." She fidgets in her seat. "On Saturday, I will come by at like eight and pick you up, and if you don't like it there, I will personally see to it that you get home safely." She studies my expression, which I try my best not to change. "Is that an acceptable arrangement?"_

 _"Ha!" I laugh. "As if my parents would ever let me go to a party with a girl." That would make them, almost impossibly, even more reluctant to let me do things. By "things," I mean anything other than study._

 _"Then just sneak out," Jen says with a casual shrug. "They don't need to know about it."_

 _"Just sneak out? JUST sneak out? I'm Indian, Jen. I don't think you understand that. I have helicopter parents. They're gonna figure it out within five minutes of me leaving."_

 _Jen knocks her fist against my head. "Come on ginder. You're smart. You'll think of something."_

 _I frown. "Wait. How are you going to pick me up anyway? Might your unnecessarily rich father have bought his precious little girl a Mercedes?" I say the last bit jokingly to mess with her, as she's a bit sensitive about the word "rich."_

 _To my surprise, however, Jen flips back her long blonde hair, winks, and pulls a pair of keys out of her handbag. She jangles them proudly. "That's exactly what Daddy did."_

…

 **A/N: I think I pretty much said everything at the beginning, so I hope you enjoyed this bit of expository about our protagonist, and I'll see you guys in the next chapter!**


	3. Disclaimer

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this isn't a real chapter, but it's something I feel needs to be said. A couple of you have been leaving characters as guests, and there are a number of problems with this. For starters, if I have questions about the character, I can't contact said guest and have my questions clarified. Furthermore, the point of submitting your own character is to follow the story and see how your character contributes. Guests have no way of following, so the only way they'll be able to find the story again if it moves to the next page or something is by using the search function or simply scrolling for however long. There really isn't any point of writing a character in if the person who submitted the character isn't reading it. So anyway, in light of this, I have decided that unless someone vouches for characters left by guests, I will not be writing in characters left in the reviews by guests (sorry!). Also, I currently have 18 characters (15 user, 3 guest, though the guest ones may not make it in), and so as to not be overwhelmed by the number of new characters, I've decided to cap it at 20. I think past that it will be difficult to give each character the screentime they deserve. But anyway, keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter! I'll be introducing some of our Hoshidan OCs there (maybe your character will be in it!). Until next time guys!**

 **P.S.: Hey again. So technically, I had asked for all submitted characters to be from the Fates universe, but a lot of people didn't really understand (it was my fault for not being clear), and so they submitted characters who originated from places outside of Fates. Rest assured, since it was my fault, these characters will be written in the way you want them, but since I am making the exception for these people, it would be unfair not to open it up for everybody. Thus, if you submitted a character from the Fates universe who you'd prefer to be from outside Fates, you can change it if you would like. However, the story would get pretty thin if I had 21 characters from Earth (20 from you guys, 1 from myself), so I won't be using more than 7-8 characters from outside of Fates. I believe at the moment I have 4, but I'm not positive. Anyway guys, thanks for sitting through my spiel, and I'll see you all next time. Thanks for reading!**

 **P.S.S.: Sorry for posting this again but there's some weird glitch and it got deleted the first time lol.**


	4. Character List

**A/N: Hey guys! All the submissions are in, and this is the cast of OCs that we will be moving ahead with (listed in no particular order; if your character is missing for whatever reason, please shoot me a PM as I may have just forgotten to check everywhere). There was an interesting development actually. Mike AZ 2 sent in his fifth character just as a guest vouched for theirs, so for the sake of fairness I'm including both and going ahead with 21 characters (speaking of which, WanderingEevee, the fanfiction site is weird about the way it displays things so I can't see the email address you left me lol and I was hoping you could retype it; the "at" symbol specifically doesn't display) I'm going to get cracking on the next chapter ASAP so you guys can see your characters in action!**

Sayvra- TheDisneyFan365

Iniabi- TheDisneyFan365

Florianna- Mike AZ 2

Trent- Mike AZ 2

Arianna- Mike AZ 2

Dorek- Mike AZ 2

Vanessa- Mike AZ 2

Akio- mysteryfriend16

Avery- mysteryfriend16

Akahana- Aron the Aron

Mitsuji- KazeNoKishiX

Verdan- Matt Cyr

Maria- Sdarkynecro

Shun- The Fresh Prince of BANANAS

Aimi- The Fresh Prince of BANANAS

David- OsamaPiggy

Mark- GaleTempest

Lucifra- Medved

Violet- pichufan101

JFHS/Graham- Sugouxxx

Tristan- WanderingEevee


	5. Making friends?

**A/N: Hello friends! Today is a great day! Today we embark on a journey through the world of Fire Emblem Fates, with a largely expanded cast of characters and a dickhead of a protagonist! I hope you're as excited as I am, hence the use of the exclamation marks! Happy reading everyone!**

 **Today's OC debuts:**

 **Violet & Graham**

…

Oh crap. I've got a nasty crick in my neck, probably because of this goddamned cot I've been sleeping on for however long. The school really needs better furnishings. Looking around, though, I realize I'm in an unfamiliar room, nothing like the nurse's office at school. Is this a hospital? You'd think they'd have better beds.

"Did you have a nice nap?" comes Jen's voice from the doorway.

Hearing her voice I turn my head rapidly, sending pain shooting down the sides of my body and making me dizzy. I groan and fall back down, unable to sit up any longer. I settle for lying on the cot and staring straight up at the ceiling, which has a bunch of different scenes of some dragon razing villages carved into it. That's not very therapeutic.

"I'll take that as a no, then," Jen says.

I hear footsteps, and then Jen's face pops into my field of vision, blocking the carving I had been studying. She's looking down at me with this bright-eyed, childlike curiosity, and it's kind of making me melt.

"Here," she says, putting some clothes on top of my face. "This is what you were wearing when we found you outside. We washed them for you. You've got an interesting shirt. Where did you get it?"

What is she talking about? I grab the clothes off my face and realize it's what I had been wearing to school. A pair of cargo shorts in this weird murky shade of green, and a Russell Wilson t-shirt jersey that a friend of mine gave me for my birthday the day before, knowing I like the Seahawks. Wait . . . so then . . . "you guys changed my clothes while I was unconscious?" I ask, my face getting hot.

Jen blushes profusely. "Well not me, but I can assure you that it was someone who wasn't interested in what's down there, if you know what I mean." There's silence for a moment, as we both think about what just happened. "Oh!" she exclaims, suddenly realizing something. She disappears from my view for a second, only to reappear a second later holding a . . . a gun?

"You had this on you when we found you," she says, placing the gun on my chest. "And these too," she continues, holding out her hand, in which I count eight bullets. "I don't know what they are, but I mean they're yours so . . ." She places them on a table next to the bed.

I pick up the gun and feel a knot of panic tighten in my chest. I start breathing rapidly. Bad idea. It hurts like a bitch to breathe, and in a couple seconds I'm coughing these horrible, hacking coughs. Everything's rushing back to me at once. Right. That bastard Frank broke my ribs. But he's dead, so I get the last laugh. Except everything hurts real bad and I'm not fucking laughing. I need to get the gun out of my sight, so I put it under my pillow.

Jen looks frightened, and she turns away for a second, probably unsure of what to do next. I realize that her hair color isn't the only thing that's different.

"The fuck happened to your ears, Jen? You look like a fucking elf with those pointed bastards. I told you you'd fuck up your ears if you got like twenty piercings."

Jen turns back to me with a frown on her face. "You sure swear a lot, don't you?"

"Huh? Why are you asking me that?"

"You just said the 'f-word' three times in three sentences. That's one "f-word" per sentence." Jen grins. "Now is that like a lifetime rate or is just a fluke that you used the word three sentences in a row?"

"What?" I don't think I've ever been more confused. "Are you feeling alright Jen? It's not like you to talk about statistics . . . or, like . . . numbers."

She sighs. "Look, I know you've probably been through a lot and your head's all messed up or whatever, but I'm not whoever you think I am. I suppose I should formally introduce myself." The girl who looks like Jen but apparently isn't her smiles the exact same way Jen used to smile and sticks out her hand. "My name is Corrin. It's nice to meet you."

I nod skeptically, now unsure of what's going on and even a little frightened. I'm starting to think this "Corrin" really isn't Jen just pulling some dumb stunt. I shake her hand.

Corrin, still smiling, studies my face for a moment before speaking: "So why didn't you save me?"

"Huh?"

"Why didn't you save me?" she repeats, her smile forced and her eyes glassy.

Terror envelops me again. "W-what?" I splutter, looking around frantically for a way out. My crick in my neck is on fire from the rapid movement but I can barely feel it over my fear. But just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Corrin is gazing at me with a worried expression. "I said, 'so what's your name'?"

I start to say it, but I quickly realize that maybe it isn't the best idea to give my real name to a stranger who's stolen Jen's face. So I glance around the room for any ideas and eventually look down at the Russell Wilson shirt in my hands. Without thinking I blurt out, "Russell." (Thank you for letting me borrow your name, Mr. Wilson. I'll try my best not to ruin it)

Corrin's smile returns. "It's great to meet you, Russell." She looks around for a second and says, "there are some people who want to see you, but I think you should take some more rest. I'll tell them to come back later."

"N-no it's okay," I protest weakly. "Let them in." Maybe they can tell me what's going on.

Corrin looks around uncertainly, but eventually relents. "Alright," she says, and does as I say. I watch her suspiciously as she crosses the room and opens the door for my visitors.

Even though it makes me dizzy, I prop myself up on my elbows so I can get a better look at them, but I'm disappointed to find that I don't recognize them at all. Corrin exchange soft but frantic words with them and then leaves. The visitors, two of them, share a wary look and then shuffle over to my cot.

They sort of huddle on the left side of the bed, so I have to angle the way I'm sitting to be able to look directly at them. There's a girl, maybe a couple years older than me, who has long black hair with blue highlights tied into a braid and these nice hazel eyes. She wears an unzipped black jacket over a white t-shirt with the face of an anime character I recognize but whose anime I've never actually seen printed on it. On the bottom she's wearing these "special" jean pants that my sister is always telling me the name of but I forget because it's really not that important. She smiles warmly at me. The other visitor, this one a significantly older guy, maybe thirty years old, makes no such attempt to make me feel at ease. He's very pale and while not overly muscular, has a well-toned body, and for a second looking at him makes me think of raw chicken in the freezer before it gets cooked. He has crew cut black hair, and eyes so green that it's actually a bit unsettling.

The girl, probably realizing the silence has now stretched long into the awkward stage, breaks it by introducing herself. "So I'm Violet," she says excitedly, smiling the whole time. "And this is . . . well no one can really pronounce his name so we just call him Graham. He looks scary but he's really just a big goof when you get to know him." She looks at the older man. "Isn't that right, Graham?" she asks, a little bit too giddily, and pinches his cheek.

The man grunts but says nothing.

"I'm Russell," I lie. I feel a slight rush of power as I realize how naturally lying comes to me. "So why are we having this conversation?"

"Huh?" Violet looks taken aback.

"I think it's best for everyone if we just expedite the process by skipping the 'getting to know you' part. Why did you guys want to talk to me?"

The pair share another glance. Huh. Pair share. That rhymes.

Violet chuckles. "You don't beat around the bush, huh?"

I shake my head. "If you waste time then you're setting a bad example for your employees. And if they waste time, then, well then that's just a poor business model. Bad business gets you fired."

Yet another shared glance.

Violet looks me directly in the eye. "You're . . . really something," she murmurs softly. Her eyes flick down to the shirt in my hands. "You're from Earth, right?"

"If by asking that question you're implying that we are not, in fact, on Earth, then I must answer that no, I am not from Earth," I respond, like a total smart ass. But seriously though, if these people are like aliens or something, I'd probably want them to think that I'm one of them, right?

The man buries his face in his hands. Is he about to cry? What a fucking wuss. Wuss wuss wuss wuss wuss.

Violet looks at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Graham sniffles. "You were only trying to be nice," he says in slightly accented English. "But he's just so fucking _annoying_."

The scene is almost comical. Violet pats the grown man on the back, consoling him in a soothing voice. Then she fixes me with a cold glare. "Look, man, no matter what you say I know you're from Earth. I mean, for goodness sake, I was never a sports fan or anything, and I haven't been back to Earth in a couple years, but I still know that Russell Wilson is a football player. There's no point denying you're from Earth. The shirt is evidence enough."

Fuck. Cornered.

Violet scowls. "I'm trying to be nice here, but you aren't giving me a lot to work with, pal." She enunciates the "pal" very forcefully, probably to put emphasis on the sarcasm. I'm not like super great at picking up on sarcasm, but I'm pretty sure that she doesn't actually consider me her pal.

"Fine," I concede. "I'm from Earth. So where are we then?"

"Well, for one thing, we aren't on Earth," chimes in the older guy, grinning. It's the first time he's spoken to me.

Violet glowers at him. "Not you too. We don't need that many smartasses." She looks back at me. "Is Russell even your real name?"

"Yeah," I answer, lying again. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well," she says flatly, all her earlier friendliness gone, "if I was going to make up a fake name, what better name to choose than the name of the football player whose shirt I was wearing?"

She's smart. I don't like that. Smart adversaries always make things difficult. "Russell's my real name," I respond. "That's part of why I like Wilson. We share a name." Well we do now, I guess, so that isn't entirely a lie?

"Uh-huh," she says, studying my expression skeptically. Seeing nothing, however, she accepts the explanation. "Alright, _Russell_ , let us explain what's happened to you."

"What's happened to me?" I ask, watching with grim satisfaction as her expression changes to one of disgust.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "I was just getting to that. Stop interrupting."

I, fully aware of how much of a dick I'm being, decide to push her further anyway. "I wasn't interrupting!" I protest half-heartedly. "I was just asking a question."

"That's the stupidest goddamned question ever. Why would you ask it if you know I'm going to tell you the answer anyway in _literally_ the next sentence?"

"I didn't know!"

"You should have just assumed!"

I look up at the big guy, who's just watching the two of us bemusedly.

Violet scowls at me. "Look, kid, we're just trying to help you out here."

"Sure," I answer with a nod and a good-natured smile, because I'm a nice guy.

"Okay, good, so that's clear," she says, seeming relieved. "So anyway, what we can tell you is-"

"Do you guys know how to use a gun?"

Violet stops. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you do it? Every time I try to speak you fucking interrupt!" She glares at me and grabs Graham's arm. "You know what? We're done here. Let's go Graham. He's on his own."

Graham does as she says, but protests weakly. "He said something about a gun, though. I think we should ask him about that."

"No. We're going."

"What if he has a gun?"

"Whatever. Fuck him and his gun. Let's go."

As they leave, I think about what Violet said about them being the only ones who understand my predicament, and I realize that maybe getting her to hate me might not have been such a great idea. Oh well. Whoopsie?

…

 _My dad is lying on the couch, lazily reading some news story on his iPad. My mom is "on call" today, and my sister is at a friend's birthday party, so for now it's just the two of us._

 _I walk up to him, even though I almost never initiate conversations with him. If we're being perfectly honest, talking to him sucks. "Hey Baba?" I say timidly._

 _He doesn't look up._

 _"Baba?"_

 _No answer._

 _Goddammit. I grab his shoulder and push him lightly. "Baba," I repeat, more forcefully this time._

 _He clicks his tongue and looks at me, clearly irritated. "Why are you yelling?"_

 _Jesus fuck. "I'm not yelling," I protest weakly. "Just listen to me."_

 _"I'm listening," he answers grumpily, upset I interrupted his reading._

 _"Can I go to a party tonight?"_

 _His expression changes to one of amusement. "A party?"_

 _Shit. "U-um yeah, a p-party," I stammer, fumbling for words. "U-uh, you don't need to g-give me a ride there. I c-can get one from a f-friend."_

 _My dad scoffs. "You think I'm going to let my son get a ride from one of his irresponsible teenage friends? Your friends are going to get you killed in an accident, you idiot. I'll take you there myself, but only if you finish all your work first."_

 _When the conversation ends I find myself standing there bemusedly. Of all the things he could have done, I certainly didn't expect him to say yes. Relieved he didn't chew me out like I expected him to, I stumble out of the family room and jog upstairs, where my phone is sitting on the charger._

 _"So there's kind of a wrench in our plan," I text Jen after unlocking my phone using my 38 character password_ ( **A/N: My password is actually 38 characters** ) _._

 _A moment later there's a buzzing noise, and I see Jen's response. "What is it?"_

 _"My dad wants to take me to the party himself," I respond. "Some bullshit about irresponsible teenagers."_

 _A minute passes without a response, and I think she's gone to the bathroom or something, but then there's another buzz. "Come outside," she says._

 _"Why?"_

 _"Just do it."_

 _So I unplug my phone off the charger and jog downstairs. I glance at my dad, still reading whatever it is he'd reading. "I'm going out with my bike, okay Baba?" I call out._

 _He grunts. I think that's a yes._

 _To make it more convincing, I open the closet by the front door and grab the key to the shed, where my bike is locked safely inside, and leave the house._

 _Sitting outside, by the curb, is a sleek black Mercedes convertible with the top down. Jen's sitting inside, wearing an expensive looking sundress and an expensive looking pair of sunglasses. She's looking directly at me, and she beckons me over._

 _I jog up to the car. "Why the hell are you here?" I check my watch, a Timex G-Shock. Fancy, I know. "It's only three forty-five. I thought you were coming at eight . . . ?"_

 _She chuckles. "So, change of plans. I kind of got into a fight with Brandon and . . . well he's gonna be there, so we're skipping the party." Jen hits a button on the driver's side of the car and I hear the click of the locks opening. "Get in the car," she orders me._

 _I shake my head. "What? No. I've got like, homework and stuff."_

 _Jen props her sunglasses up on her head just so I can see her roll her eyes. "Come around to my side," she says, and I do. "Come closer," she says quietly, and, feeling a bit awkward, I do. At the top of her fucking lungs, she screams into my right ear: "WHAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE PHRASE, 'SECOND SEMESTER SENIORS?' THERE'S NO FUCKING WORK FOR US TO DO, YOU DIPSHIT."_

 _A neighbor who was watering her flowers across the street stops and looks over at us._

 _I smile apologetically and wave._

 _She returns the smile and goes back to watering her plants._

 _"Christ, Jen," I spit. "I don't have like a ton of work to do, but if I don't keep my grades up my acceptance letter could get rescinded."_

 _Jen scowls. "Come on ginder. You're smart. You'll figure it out." She leans over and pushes open the door on the passenger side. "Now get in. The two of us are gonna have some fun."_

 _Once again, I find myself unable to say no to Jen, and so, against my better judgment, I walk back over to the other side and get in._

 _Just then, a dumbass bird decides to take a shit while flying, and this white, goopy land mine rains down from the sky and splats down on the road right next to the car, missing me by maybe a couple inches, a couple inches if I'm being generous. I freeze, afraid it's going to hit me on the ricochet or something, and Jen bursts into a fit of hysterical giggles._

 _After a full thirty seconds or so, she puts an arm around my shoulder, still chuckling, and says: "This is why you should stick with me kid. I've got the luck o' the Irish!"_

 _She says the last bit with a really crappy Irish accent._

 _I look over at her, surprised. "I didn't know you're Irish."_

 _She puts her shades back down over her eyes and glances over at me. "Oh no I'm not."_

 _"Then why . . . you know what? Never mind." I finally take a good look at the car. It's beautiful. I'd describe it to you, but I have no idea what adjectives I'm supposed to use for describing cars. But let's just say, it's the hot girl equivalent of cars. "This is your ride?" I ask, very impressed._

 _"What can I say?" she responds with a shrug. "Daddy only buys the best for his little girl."_

 _"You're spoiled as fuck."_

 _She grins at me. "I know. It's awesome."_

 _"So where are we going?" I ask._

 _Jen fits her keys into the ignition and twists. The car makes this badass revving noise that I thought only happened in the movies as it starts up. "Wherever you want, my friend. Wherever you want."_

…

 **A/N: Hey guys! So I wanted to ask your feedback, especially you guys, pichufan101 and sugouxxx, since it was your characters who got introduced in this chapter. I also wanted to let you guys know that updates won't be nearly this frequent in the future. I'm currently on break from school so I have plenty of time to write, but it won't always be like that. That being said, I won't let you guys down, so we're eventually going to finish writing this story. I'm thinking I'll have the next chapter ready around Thanksgiving (hopefully before then, but it doesn't look good). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you next time!**

 **P.S.: How do you feel about the main character? I intentionally made him a total wad, but do you think that adds to the story or detracts from it?**


	6. Reunion

I've now been here for six days but I still haven't left the infirmary. They used some sort of miracle medicine, so after that first day I've felt pretty much a hundred percent. Still, though, I've been enjoying having people waiting on me hand and foot, so for the last five days I've been pretending to be sick.

Apparently there was some skirmish a couple days ago near the border, so there are more people here now, four "Nohrians" and two "Hoshidans". I've found out that those are nationalities, and that we're in Hoshido. Nohr is supposed to be the enemy, but so far they seem pretty cool.

My bed is facing the door, all the way on the right side of the room. To my left is the smallest of the four Nohrians, a short, wiry kid named Durham. None of the Nohrians would reveal their names so that's all I know. To Durham's left is a slightly taller, but still small soldier named Rosier. I can't tell what Rosier looks like because he's covered from head to toe in bandages. Beyond Rosier is a girl named Townsend, a _huge_ guy, like, even taller than Graham huge, named Cleverley, and past him are the two Hoshidans whose names I don't know. There was a fifth Nohrian, but he died a couple hours after coming in. It was quite tragic. Durham said that he was a racist, so it wasn't really a big loss. Durham is also feeling better, as he'd come in with pretty minor injuries, but he's pretending to be sick as well so they won't dump in a prison cell. Unlike Rosier, who physically can't speak, Durham talks a lot, more than enough for the two of them. He babbles about all sorts of things, but mostly about the weather differences between Nohr and Hoshido, his aspirations as a soldier, and bitches. He talks about girls the most, but I can tell he's a virgin like me.

Corrin visits me a lot, enough for me to have learned her name even. She brings me my meals personally. I asked her why, since they seem to have a surplus of help around here, and she said that she found me interesting and wanted to talk. The issue with talking though, is that there isn't a lot of space between the beds, so everyone can hear whatever we're talking about. Plus, apart from an affinity to numbers that Jen never had (Corrin has been counting the number of times I swear when we talk, and gives me periodic updates on what percentage of the words I say are curses), they're basically the same person. It's kind of creepy, really.

Still, Corrin has never really asked me about where I'm from or about my past. She mostly just tells me about herself, so I'm not sure what she's getting out of our conversations.

Violet also came to visit me, exactly twice. A day after our first conversation, she came in to talk to me about something, but I said some dumb shit and pissed her off, so she left. She tried again two days ago, but Durham, who had arrived in between those two meetings, eyed her hungrily the whole time, and she left finally left in a rage after he commented on her full breasts. I haven't seen her since.

It's about time for my lunchtime visit from Corrin, and right on cue she comes in the door carrying a platter of Asian food. It's always Asian food. I'm not sure what's up with that. I don't really mind, but still.

Corrin sets the food down on the desk next to the bed, pulls up a stool, and sits down. "So when are you going to stop pretending to be sick?" she asks with a mildly irritated look.

Fuck. I've been caught. I cough obnoxiously, to try and salvage the lie. I grimace, poorly feigning discomfort, and weakly say, "no no no. I'm really sick. My chest still hurts."

On my other side, Durham groans, smelling the food. "I'm _hungry_!" he shouts, and Corrin yells for him to shut the hell up.

She looks back at me and explains that they use really good medicine, and that they know I've been faking illness for the past five days. "It was funny at first," she admits, "but you have to start pulling your weight around here."

"Please, no," I beg. "I like it when you bring me my food."

She sighs, and stands up. "We're going to the square in a few hours to tell everyone about my arrival in Hoshido. You're coming with, so get yourself ready. Think of it as a way to get familiar with the area, like sightseeing." With that, she stands up, straightens herself out, and walks out self assuredly.

Goddamnit. Jen wouldn't kick me out like that.

"She's hot," Durham murmurs.

"Shut up."

…

"Why isn't it winter?" I ask, suddenly realizing how hot it is. We're in the town plaza, waiting for the queen to introduce Corrin to the people. Apparently Corrin isn't a Hoshidan either.

Violet, who's standing next to me (not by choice, mind you), sighs exasperatedly, as if I had just said something incredibly stupid, and then explains: "It _is_ winter."

"Huh?"

Some scrawny dude with a gray ponytail interrupts our conversation, stepping in between us and putting an arm around each of our shoulders. "This is what winter is like around here," he declares proudly, smiling confidently at me.

"Lucky bastard," I growl at him, thinking of the terrible winters back in Jersey.

He grins at pats me on the back. "That's no way to speak to your prince," he says, before walking away to stand beside the queen on the platform.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"Prince Takumi," Violet tells me. "He's normally super irritable, especially around strangers, so you must have caught him on a good day."

I nod, already starting to lose interest and only half paying attention. I've been distracted by the crowd of people.

I notice, as I look around at the people in the mob, that some of them are wearing red hoods. They're scattered around in the crowd, seemingly at random. I'm vaguely aware that the queen has started talking. The hooded people all start moving towards us at the same time.

And then, almost in slow motion, there's a thundering boom, and all hell breaks loose. Before I know it, I'm on the ground, coughing and wiping dirt off my face. I hear screaming, but it's faint compared to the intense ringing I'm hearing in both ears.

I struggle to sit up and attempt to get my bearings. I look at the battle scene unfolding all around me, not really processing what's going on. A headless body hits the ground, blood spurting from the neck stump. An arrow whizzes past my head. To my right there's a deafening roar, and when I turn to look there's a fucking dragon there. It bends down and bites down on one of the hooded people, cutting the body in half like butter.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and when I look up it's a Hoshidan soldier. He's shouting something at me but I can't hear him all that well. He offers his hand, which I take, and he helps me stand up. He's still shouting, and I stare blankly. Eventually he gives up and motions for me to run after him, which I do. The two of us bolt away from the plaza where most of the fighting is going down and run into a side street. I turn around while running and see that there are two hooded figures in pursuit. As they run after us one of their hoods flies off, and I catch a glimpse of blonde hair. When I see the face, though, I stop dead in my tracks.

It's Jen.

The Hoshidan soldier stops running when he realizes I'm not following him, and comes back for me.

Our pursuers are fast, however, and within seconds the four of us are all in the side street, staring at each other, standing about twenty feet apart.

It's fucking Jen.

She looks at me like she's staring at a ghost. "Oh my god," she murmurs softly.

The Hoshidan tugs at my sleeve. "We have to go. _Now_ ," he insists, but I don't budge. I'm frozen to the spot.

" _We should turn back soon," Jen says, peering through the windshield. We've only been driving on the highway for a couple hours, but since it's the first week of February it's already dark even though it's just six o'clock. "Sorry I couldn't take you where you wanted to go."_

" _Are you kidding?" I say with a mischievous grin. "I didn't have a place in mind. I just directed you onto the highway and had you drive for however long."_

 _Her eyes light up. "You sneaky son of a bitch," she says with a broad smile. "So we were going nowhere all this time?"_

" _Yeah," I answer, enjoying her bemused look._

Jen robotically turns to the other hooded figure. "Kill the spare," she instructs, nodding at the Hoshidan soldier.

Within a second, there's a loud crackle and a blinding flash as a bolt of lightning shoots from the figure's fingertips. Next to me, the Hoshidan's charred, lifeless body thuds as it hits the stone pavement. I never even learned his name.

Jen advances, her gaze still fixed on me. For my part, I'm glued to the floor, unable to move away from her. Pretty soon we're standing face to face, only about a foot away from each other. She stares intently at me. "Impossible," she murmurs, with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "How could you be here?"

Unable to find my voice, I stand there dumbly. She reaches out and puts her left hand on my face, as if to make sure I'm real. It's too late for me to grab the gun I've concealed in my back pocket when I finally notice her other hand resting on the axe strapped to her right leg.

 _Jen studies my face for a moment before suddenly declaring, "you're my best friend."_

" _Huh?" I wasn't expecting that, to say the least. "Why?" It's strange, honestly, considering this is maybe the second or third time we've ever hung out together outside of school._

" _I dunno," she says with a shrug. "I feel like I can tell you anything. You're a lot realer than most of the people I know."_

Jen swipes with the axe, and I close my eyes and brace for death.

But there's no impact. I open my eyes again, and see that there's someone in between Jen and I. A tall, blonde man in a yellow tunic stands in between the two of us. His silver sword is blocking Jen's axe, and she's straining to beat his strength.

Jen turns around and barks for the other hooded figure to help her, but with the time the stranger has bought me I manage to pull out the gun. I level the pistol at the hooded figure, and in a stroke of pure luck my shot hits the target. The figure's head splits open, a lot of gray mush spilling out, and the figure topples over onto the pavement, unmoving.

The stranger turns back to me, eyes wide with surprise. However, he quickly regains his bearings and shoves Jen off of him. The force of his blow forces her backwards, and she falls over onto the street, her axe clattering as it hits the ground.

The blonde man turns back to me. "Run," he says, and I follow him.

I look behind me to see Jen coming after us, but she's a ways behind now, having had to stop to retrieve her weapon.

 _I smile, honestly a little flattered, when she says that. "Of course. You can always tell me anything."_

 _She pauses for a moment, and then says, "good, because there's something I have to get off my chest."_

The blonde man and I run through some more streets. Jen's lost ground on us, but I can still hear her calling to me. I feel my skin crawl as her voice pierces the air again. We've gotten quite far away from the noise of the main battle scene, so I can hear her loud and clear.

"I can _smell_ you," she hisses unnervingly. "We've known each other for more than six years. I know your _scent_. You can't run from me."

The blonde man puts his finger over his lips, telling me not to respond, and we keep running. Pretty soon we can't hear her voice anymore, and it's just the two of us in the middle of a maze of identical looking roads.

"I think we lost her," says the blonde man, panting. He sticks out his hand. "My name's Trent," he tells me.

I shake, but I'm too out of breath from the jogging to speak. I'm way out of shape.

The two of us, tired, plop down right in the middle of the road. I lie down and look at the rows of apartment buildings. Something catches my eye, though, and I stiffen.

Trent notices and asks me what's wrong. I point.

About fifty feet away, sitting on the rooftop of the one the apartment buildings, is Jen, twirling her massive axe in her hands. Her face breaks out into a huge smile. "Found you!" she cackles.

 _The way she says that changes the mood instantaneously. Whereas before I was relaxed, all of a sudden I can feel the tension in the air. I don't feel entirely safe, alone in the car with Jen._

" _What do you have to tell me?" I ask, afraid of the answer, even though I try to tell myself that I'm being irrational._

 _Jen looks over at me. Her eyes have a dangerous glint to them that I've never seen before. Her face is shrouded in shadow, so I can see little more than her wild eyes and her mouth, which is stretched into an unnaturally wide smile. I can see all of her perfectly straight, white teeth, and they almost shine in the moonlight. I've never been more frightened of anyone in my entire life._

" _Are you ready?" she asks, but her expression says that she'll tell me whether I'm ready or not._

 _I nod, keeping both my eyes on her, afraid to look away._

 _She laughs, but instead of her normal melodious laugh, she emits this harsh, grating sound, like she's stuck halfway between laughing and coughing. And then she tells me: "I killed somebody."_

…

 **A/N: Hey guys! No, I'm not dead. I'd try to explain myself, but honestly there's no excuse for how long I've kept you waiting. I've been having some personal issues, so while I hate to admit it, the past few months writing honestly hasn't been that much of a priority (I apologize if this chapter seems hastily constructed; feel free to leave reviews or messages for me about errors I may have missed). I'm really sorry about the long wait, and while I can promise that I will eventually finish the story (don't worry about me abandoning it; I won't waste the time and effort you put into building your characters), I cannot promise that the next chapter will come any faster than this one did. With that said, I ask you all to please bear with me through this process, and as always, thanks for reading! I hope you guys enjoy!**

 **Edit: After I posted this chapter the first time the story was at 9,980 words, so I'm adding some unnecessary text here to reach 10,000.**


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